


First Impressions

by attack_on_feels



Category: Neverwinter Nights
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-09 21:02:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19483972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/attack_on_feels/pseuds/attack_on_feels
Summary: Why would a Drow assassin prioritize theft over killing their target?  Oh yeah, she wouldn't.If only our player characters had some way to reverse death written into the very fabric of the story?





	First Impressions

The surface lands were pathetic.

Cormrorah’s trainers had taught her to expect as much and yet she was still astounded at the deficiencies in defence that surrounded her. Two surfacer males had guarded the entrance to the surface but lacked the proper amount of fear to keep their attentions focused on their task. They had lapsed in their vigilance and should have died for it, but killing them and exposing their weakness would just be a boon to their enemy and possibly endanger her mission. Cormrorah easily slipped past them. _"This is what happens when you allow a male to run a house" _she thought with disgust. She felt the urge to slaughter all within the drab and disgusting little Inn that presumed to guard the surface lands from the perils of the Undermountian however her desire to conquer would have to be put aside until The Valsharess ordered a full scale invasion. It was evening but the darkness here was as weak as everything else. There was just so much light, from fireplaces, candles and from the moon and stars outside. Cromrorah had trained in high light environments and her ability to blend with shadows was as useful here as it was in Menzoberranzan, in fact given that a majority of the people in this surfacer city were human with their particularly useless eyes she was probably still at an advantage. Still, she was cautious and slow as she snuck her way to the inns common room. She could not afford a failure, her pride would not allow it and the Valsharess would rightfully kill her for it. She quickly and quietly drank a potion that would make her fully invisible for a few moments and using her enchanted boots of spiderclimb, she quickly scaled the walls to find a perch on the rafters to better see the room. She took a moment to look for her target amongst the patrons carousing late in the evening. She was in luck, it didn’t take long to spot a rivvil female who fit the description. She was hideous. Her features themselves were fine, for a human at least. She had well breed face and good proportions however it was all undone by her colouring. Her skin wasn’t just light toned it was almost bone white and her hair was a weak, lifeless grey. Her bared arms had curled black tattoos upon them that just highlighted starkness of her complexion and her black eyes had a dead quality to them. She was dressed in studded black leather armour of a style that Cormrorah had never seen before. If the female hadn’t been sitting up, moving animatedly laughing and drinking with her companions Cormrorah would believe her dead. Perhaps she was. No one had explicitly said that her target wasn’t some undead creature. Misinformation could cause an assassination to fail and few would wish to endanger a mission directly ordered by the Valsharess herself but like any worthy Drow Female Cormrorah had ambitious enemies. To her knowledge necromancy was reviled on the surface. Those sharing her targets table were of varied race, perhaps the Half Orc would not fear the strength of death magics but she doubted the rivvil or quel’dorei females would approve and she didn't even want to speculate on the mentalities of the halfling male. The other patrons of the place seemed to give the female fearful glances but that could just be due to her reputation. A lesser Red Sister was tasked with finding out information about the surfacer and it seemed the female was something of a legend. They said she killed an ancient Old One Queen who planned to ravage the surface and then went on to kill a powerful Medusa Sorceress imbued with Nethereese magics. Corm continued her studies of the woman over the next few hours. She ate, drank, laughed, she spoke companionably with the quel’dorei female that bore a holy symbol of Sehanine Moonbow, known to despise the undead. So it seemed the human female was simply ugly and not actually dead. The other targets in the city had been people of import. Nobles, people vital to the cities defense, those whose deaths would lower morale and spread panic. Despite the rivvil’s achievements she was also dobluth. She was once a favoured daughter of a lord of Waterdeep however she had somehow angered the….”patriarch” of her house and had been cast out. If she were Drow Corm would assume that the rivvil had tried to kill the male and take her rightful place as head of house, however rivvil worked differently and she did not know what would cause a male head of house such displeasure. _"Maybe he was just offended at the females dour image?" _Corm thought with savage amusement, _"Certainly if I had been born so ugly my Mother would have killed me for shaming her blood. Maybe that's why the Valsharess wants her dead too. Who would want to own a world with such a horrible creature in it?" _Humor aside, the if the rivvil was as powerful as the stories made out a quick death before the invasion begun in earnest would be prudent.______

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Corm was a patient female and didn’t begrudge the time she spent studying her target. Soon enough the female and her companions separated for their rest. Corm became the rivvil’s silent shadow, following her to one of the few rooms that allowed for just a single occupant. _"Perfect." _She thought gleefully. Whatever status the female still held had given her access to a room that would make it even easier to kill her quickly and quietly without some fool intercepting. Still patient Corm allowed time for the female rivvil to fall asleep before descending from the roof and picking the lock to her door. The room within was a much more comfortable level of dark. The female was undignified and vulnerable in her slumber, she had shed her clothes and lay belly down and naked on the small bed. More ugly tattoos marred her back as well as many scars. Cormrorah was almost mad at how easy this was. This pathetic excuse for a female didn’t deserve the honour of being killed by a Red Sister, there was barely any challenge in it.__

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But Cormrorah was a processional assassin and would not sully her training by hesitating to make a quick kill. Her dagger was in her hand before she consciously thought to equip it and she approached silently as the wind. With a quick and deadly stroke the dagger slipped through vertebrae and cut spinal cord. The human awoke, confused, dazed and dying. Corm quickly wrapped her hand around the females mouth to stifle any sounds she may yet be capable of making, before quickly and efficiently snapping the pathetic creatures neck.

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A sense of satisfaction filled Corm as she took the time to position the body. It was a good kill. A great kill in fact, done in the name of a great Valsharess. The surfacers must know that the Drow made this kill, that even their greatest heroes were nothing compared to the wrath of the Drow. Corm flipped the broken body onto its back and noted yet more of the disgusting tattoos, this time around the females breasts. The light of the moon sparked off small bits of metal that had been inserted through the females nipples and further inspection found more dark grey metal pieced through her nose. Cormrorah allowed her self a second to be baffled. Must be some savage rivvil custom, she decided. She would enquire about this with the Red Sisters Loremistress. Corm finished her task by stabbing her pretty dagger into the females already stilled heart. A broken corpse, no signs of a struggle and a Drow dagger to take responsibility for the kill. "Behold the work of an artist.: Corm thought with great satisfaction.

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Her main objective was complete and now all Corm needed to do was take anything of value. Anything left behind would just be used to serve their enemies. Suddenly the sound of something scampering gave her pause. It sounded light and small. The inn must house vermin as well as surfaces. "Fitting" she thought with a silent laugh. The dead females packs held a surprising number of treasures. There were a lot of magical scrolls, pieces of jewelry, weapons and some interesting looking artifacts as well as the strange dark armour the female had donned earlier and a frankly unbelievable amount of coin. There was also a beautifully crafted rapier that Crom decided to seize for herself. She knew her Elder Red Sisters would be furious at her daring but would ultimately allow it. Quietly and efficiently the rest of the treasurers were stacked into a chest before Corm produced a teleportation scroll from her own possessions. She spoke the words that would release the magic in the spell in a hushed whisper. She was almost complete when her senses picked up…..something. The rustling again. She quickly finished the spell and took a defensive stance, searching for whatever her instincts had picked up. Something felt…not right. Alone in the tense silence Cormrorah’s eyes scoured the room with her new weapon at the ready, but she saw nothing.

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And then, out of the corner of her eye she saw movement near the corpse.

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She approached cautiously wondering if it was possible hat she had missed something. Perhaps the female had some kind of pet? Then why had it allowed its mistress to die? Whatever it was, it was fast. It was too soon for vermin to start feasting on her kill and so she doubted it was some kind of rat.

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It seemed to scuttle about the body for a second, fast enough that her Drow eyes could not make its shape out before it latched onto the hilt of the dagger Corm had planted in her targets heart. It was….a hand. A disembodied lump of red flesh was animatedly attempting to pull the weapon out from its mistresses chest. Fearing that the thing would attack her with her own dagger Corm moved to lunge at it, blade ready to slice it to pieces. As she got within striking range the hand managed to yank the dagger free but rather than try to avenge its mistress it simply dropped the dagger on the bed next to her body. Confused, Corm paused, trying to take a second to gather more information about the strange thing. There had been many powerful artifacts among the females possessions and she didn’t want to engage something that would outmatch her.

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The hand did not hesitate however. The diseased looking thing moved like a spider walking on its fingers and settled palm first on the females face as if caressing it. Then it suddenly slapped her. "It’s trying to wake her." _Corm realised. But the woman was still very much dead. The artifact may have been powerful but it seemed to lack any intelligence._

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It quickly slapped her in succession a few times, causing her head to snap back and forth jarringly on her broken neck. Corm wanted to leave. By all accounts she had killed her victim and seized its treasures and her mission was done…but if this thing was powerful her betters would punish her severely for leaving it behind. Besides, it was kind of amusing to see it try and assault a corpse back to life. She decided to capture the thing before she left and cast her eyes about for something to pick it up with. She very much did not want to touch the foul thing after all. Her eyes landed on a cotton runner that adorned the top of a cabinet. She could use it to tie the thing up like a mummys hand and trap it. With her plan formed Corm quickly made her way over to retrieve the piece of cloth. She only turned for a split second but when she turned back she stopped cold.

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_"Shes dead"_

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_"I know she’s dead because I killed her."_

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Only the corpse was no longer acting like a corpse. In fact it was acting in a remarkably un-corpse like matter. Corm had a lot of experience with dead bodies and it was her processional opinion that they didn’t typically sit up and try and realign their broken necks after they we’re killed. 

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_"Oh Vith. She was undead after all." _She looked on in horror as the former corpse tilted its head back and forth with limbs that were rapidly remembering how to move. The despicable little hand smacked the females face again, softer this time, and milky white, dead eyes sharpened into grey clarity. She looked confused until the stupid little hand suddenly pointed right at Corm.__

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Corm took an involuntarily step back and raised her weapon. Fine so the surfacer was going to be hard to kill after all. Her mind sought desperately for some kind of undead creature that matched the females profile. She was pale enough for a vampire but they simply regenerated from attacks. They didn’t bleed when you stabbed them and didn’t die a false death, you attacked them with steel to weaken them and then killed them with wood to finish the job while they tried to eat you.

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And she had been dead. There was no way to fake just how dead the female had been.

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The human noticed the dagger next to her and picket it up with her off hand.

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“You fucking killed me?” she spat angrily.

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Corm really didn’t know how to answer that question. She took another step back, knowing she was cornering herself but unable to stop.

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“Answer me Drow!” The female demanded hotly. The creature before her may have been a powerful, undieing and dangerous rivvil but it was still a rivvil and Corm’s Drow Pride could not abide being spoken to in such a way by such a disgustingly un-Drow thing.

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“I do not know what manner of creature you are, but I killed you once and I will simply have to do it again.” she declaimed with a lot more confidence than she felt. 

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The pale thing before her had the audacity to laugh. She didn’t seem to care that she was naked and vulnerable or that since they had swapped weapons Corm’s new rapier gave her the advantage of better reach. She just kept advancing at a slow, steady pace. It was an intimidation tactic nothing more. Corm steeled her nerves. The female was almost in range. This time Corm would remove her head completely and destroy the cursed little hand that undid her good work.

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The creature was in range. It didn’t even raise Corm’s dagger in a defensive pose. Furious and scared Corm thrust her weapon forward aiming for the females heart. As her arm extended there was a flash of black smoke before her and her strike was knocked to the right before her traitor dagger was used to stab into the flesh of her wrist.

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The rivvil had somehow summoned a weapon into existance without moving a muscle or uttering any sound. Corm's dominant hand was ruined, the rapier, her only defense lay uselessly at her feet. 

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__“What are you?”__ Corm hissed. Animal instinct was kicking in. Fear was overwhelming her, and she cradled her wound while she tried to back away again but to her horror her back met with the wood of the wall behind her. She was trapped. She was dead.

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The surfacer had a look on her face that any Dorw would recognize. The surfacer was going to kill her for what she had done and was going to enjoy every second of it. They we’re not supposed to be this powerful up here or this vicious. Her voice was small now. “ Mercy” she whispered sinking to her knees. “Please Dread Mistress spare me-”

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Corm was dead before she even knew it.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone curious there are cannon reasons behind my description of Kerryn (whos name I never wrote in for some reason but w/e.) And despite not having the warlock class available in Neverwinter there is no one in the world of Torril that is more warlock than the PC in HOTU. The hex blade warlock has an ability create a pact weapon in their empty hand. "You can choose the form that this melee weapon takes each time you create it. You are proficient with it while you wield it. This weapon counts as magical for the purpose of overcoming Resistance and immunity to nonmagical attacks and damage."  
> I know i'm like 400 years late to the Neverwinter party but it's one of my all time favorite games and I'm trying to learn how to write stuff good so here I am. Feedback would be great if anyone even finds this lol.

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone curious there are cannon reasons behind my description of Kerryn (whos name I never wrote in for some reason but w/e.) And despite not having the warlock class available in Neverwinter there is no one in the world of Torril that is more warlock than the PC in HOTU. The hex blade warlock has an ability to call their blade to them at any time by summoning it through the Shadowfell. Don't try to stab a hexblade warlock with their own bonded weapon.  
> I know i'm like 400 years late to the Neverwinter party but it's one of my all time favorite games and I'm trying to learn how to write stuff good so here I am. Feedback would be great if anyone even finds this lol.


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